


Relative Risk

by jrenbar



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Brother Mycroft, Bullying, Chess games, Child Neglect, Crazyish Jim, Crime Scenes, Fluff, Friendship, Hyperactive Sherlock, I'm going to stop., John and Sherlock grow up together, Kid John, Kid Sherlock, Kidlock, M/M, More to be added. - Freeform, Multi, Parental Lestrade, Past Child Abuse, Quiet John, Seriousness, Sick John, Sweet Sherlock, These are out of control, Traumatized John, Younger John, Younger Sherlock, all sorts of things, but with the intent of Johnlock, only when they are of age though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 12:33:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4960789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrenbar/pseuds/jrenbar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since his mentor's sudden death Greg has had a lot on his plate stepping up as the new Detective Inspector of his unit. For Greg it's just a normal day at a crime scene. What he doesn't expect is to find is that one of the victims is his late mentor's daughter. Then he finds something at the crime scene that is even more unexpected and twice as concerning. </p><p>A journey of healing, friendship and chess moves as John and Sherlock grow up under the supervision of two geniuses, a sniper and a detective inspector.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surprise at a Crime Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to my Beta [mafm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mafm/pseuds/mafm)!!!!

 

 

            “Sir, we’ve got a locked door over here.”

            “Well, get a tech to open it. O’Hare has to have hidden his stash somewhere. ” Greg said impatiently before walking back to the primary crime scene.

            The Met had been tracking O’Hare, a local drug lord, for quite some time but unfortunately, someone got to him before they could bring him in. Greg looked over the two bodies that were being processed by the forensic team. The kills had been clean, quick, professional, so more than likely someone higher up in the chain of command decided to get rid of him. Greg shuddered to think who that might be. O’Hare was no mastermind, but he was quite the piece of work, a smooth-talker, with a fairly high IQ, and unfortunately a sadist to boot.

            “Have they ID-ed the other victim?” He asked Clark, his sergeant. He had barely glanced at the woman earlier, focusing more on O’Hare.

            “Yes sir, we have identified her as one Harriet Watson.” Clark read from his notebook. Greg’s heart stopped when he heard the name.

            “Harry? It can’t be.” He whispered, making his way over to the body. He looked the poor girl over thoroughly. One shot to the head, same as O’Hare; sure enough, his fears were confirmed and the other victim was Harriet Watson, the eldest daughter of his late mentor, Detective Inspector Gerald Watson. She was gaunt and sickly looking, but it was still recognizably her. How on earth did she get here?

            “BLOODY HELL!” he vaguely heard in the background. “Sir!! You might want to come and look at this. We have that door open.”

            He turned and made his way back through the dingy rooms, still stunned at the recent revelation. He stopped at the door and finally noticed the techs faces; Jerry is pale and horrified and Mel horrified with a hint of anger under her disgust.

            Concerned, he took one of the offered torches and stepped into the tiny room. Instantly he was hit with a stale smell, one of sweat, dirt, and sewers. Grimacing, he swept the light around, noticing a bucket on the floor he moved the light onward. He nearly dropped his torch at the next sight. A small boy was huddled in the corner, clutching a ragged towel and staring at him with the most terrified expression he has ever seen. The boy had a smattering of bruises over his face and his hair was matted and dirty, but Greg would recognize that face anywhere. He’d seen that face in pictures on his mentor’s desk for years. He’d been to birthday parties, he’d held the child at the funeral.

            “John.” Greg whispered in shock.

            “Please…pl..please….I’ll be good….” The little boy stuttered, out trembling slightly. Greg’s heart broke at the sound.

            “John, it’s Greg. Greg Lestrade. I worked with your Dad. Do you remember?” He explained softly hunching down to the child’s level.

            “Please…” John plead again, apparently trying to shrink back further.

            “It’s Greg, John, remember? I used to take you to get ice cream?” He talked softly to the traumatized child while he pulled out his wallet and found the photo he kept there, one of him and Gerald Watson smiling at a Christmas party. He slid the photo slowly towards the little boy. “See here, I used to come over for Sunday dinners at your house. I took you to the zoo on your third birthday and got you a wolf stuffed animal. I’m not going to hurt you, buddy. I promise, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

            John flicked his gaze down to the photo studying it and Greg alternately. Greg sees it when it happens, the recognition, the spark of recollection in John’s face. John’s face crumbles fully as he rushes forward latching himself onto Greg. Greg swayed slightly, unprepared for this reaction. He embraced the child when he recovered and grabbed the picture before standing with John in his arms.

            Greg turned and slowly and emerged from the closet. John, light in his arms, burrowed further into his shoulder while sobbing quietly. He looked to Mel and Clark who had made their way over.

            “An ambulance should be here soon, I called it in.” Mel said quietly.

            “Good.” Greg nodded gratefully. “Clark, wrap this scene up, I’ll be going with John.”

            “John, sir?” Clark asked, his eyes flicking down to the boy in question.

            “Yes, John Watson.”

            “John Watson….is that Gerald’s-” Mel began.

            “Yes.” Greg nodded and turned to leave the old house.

            “Christ Almighty!” he hears Mel exclaim from behind him.

            Greg holds the small, trembling boy close as he walks outside, shielding him from seeing the dead bodies. John was thin, far too thin for a boy of five. Greg couldn’t understand it, how a boy could go from healthy and living with his grandfather to this sad state in only a year. What on earth had happened to him?

            Luckily, he didn’t have to wait very long for the ambulance to arrive. The paramedics immediately reached for John, who refused to let go of Greg’s coat. The paramedics ultimately ushered Greg into the back of the bus with the boy.

            “John, they want to look you over and help you feel better.” Greg explained, sitting down in the back as one of the women came closer. “I won’t let you go okay, you can sit right here in my lap.”

            Greg sighed as John nodded into his chest, still sniffling and trembling violently. Carefully, he turned the boy in his lap so that the paramedic could look the child over. She approached slowly and went to work. After twenty minutes she looked up at Greg with a grimace.

            “I think his wrist is broken, and I’d also like to take some x-rays of his chest; it doesn’t sound so good.” She frowned.

            “Right, well I’m going with him.” Greg nodded and stood up so he could step properly into the back. The woman looked at him in confusion.

            “We already called a child services to meet us at the hospital, there is no need to come along, Inspector.” She explained.

            “I’m coming.” He glared at her over John’s head.

            She shrugged and let it go, focusing instead on putting the medical supplies away. Greg looked down at John who had begun to collapse against him. The boy was clearly exhausted and still extremely frightened. Greg got the attention of the paramedic once more nodded pointedly to a garish orange blanket on a shelf. She nodded in understanding and handed it to him quickly. He awkwardly shook it open with one hand before tucking it around John as best as he could.

            As the ambulance made its way towards the hospital. Greg pulled out his mobile and rang his boyfriend.

            _“Hello Gregory, are you still coming around for dinner?”_ Mycroft asked.

            “No, I’m afraid something came up with work. Tell Sherlock I’m sorry.” Greg answered.

            _“What’s wrong, Gregory?”_ Mycroft inquired, his concern evident.

            “Do you remember my mentor, Inspector Watson?” Greg asked looking down at a now sleeping John.

            _“Yes, he was a good man.”_ Mycroft replied.

            “Well,” Greg sighed. “I’ve just left a crime scene where his daughter was one of the victims. John was there also, although he’s in bad shape.”

            _“What do you need?”_ Mycroft asked with his customary authority. Greg could just imagine Mycroft in his study, straightening up and tapping away on his computer.

            “I’d like to know how John ended up with Harriet in the first place. When his father passed he was placed in the care of his grandfather up north.”

            _“I’ve already begun to look through, ah,”_ Mycroft paused. _“His grandfather passed away 9 months ago, car crash. He was put under the care of his sister after that.”_

            “God, I wish I’d have known.” Greg lamented. “Can you see if you can find a way to contact his brother Sebastian? He was still in Afghanistan last I heard.”

            _“I’ll get on it right away.”_ Mycroft assured him. _“Don’t worry about Sherlock, he’ll understand.”_

            “Thank you Myc.” Greg sighed in relief. Mycroft’s resources were much greater than his; the new promotion his boyfriend had received a few months ago gave him an alarming amount of access and influence.

            As he rang off he looked up to find the paramedic staring at him with understanding.

            “That’s why you’re so concerned, you know him.” She said simply gesturing to the sleeping John. 

            “Yes,” He nodded. “His father was my mentor on the force. I remember when John here was born.”

            “Oh dear.” She frowned in sympathy.

           

 

 

            The hospital had been an ordeal. John refused to be separated from Greg, which initially caused a few problems, but the nurses were understanding and settled on just working around him.  He even helped the nurse who set about cleaning the dirt off of John. After John was all cleaned up and x-rays were taken, Greg had been ushered into the hospital bed with John, who still wouldn’t let go of him. A sweet nurse came by and hooked John up to a few IVs and, after informing Greg that the doctor would be in soon, quietly left.

            Greg watched as John slowly drifted off to sleep once more. Washing off the dirt and grime had painted an even more gruesome picture of John’s recent past. The boy had large bruises across his face and neck. His arms were also littered with bruises and a few cigarette burns. The more Greg saw, the angrier he became. In addition to a broken wrist, which was now wrapped in a blue cast, John had a series of deep gashes on his back that indicated a past harsh beating.

            “Mr. Lestrade?” A woman in a black suit peaked her head in the doorway.

            “Detective Inspector.” He corrected.

            “Right,” She smiled stepping in the room further. “I’m Jenna Taylor, the child services agent that was sent to handle his case.”

            “Hello, Ms. Taylor.” Greg nodded to her before falling silent once more.

            “Please call me Jenna. I received a call on my way up that informed me that you were named John’s temporary guardian until his closest family can be found.” She smiled.

            At this Greg smiled back at her, God love Mycroft.

            “Good, I was very close to his parents.” He said quietly.

            “It’s quite obvious you have a close relationship with John.” She agreed looking down at the sleeping child that had nuzzled against him. “I was already briefed on the phone about his situation and I’m simply going to wait for the doctor’s report before I go so I can add it into my report.”

            “The doctor should be in soon, I expect.” Greg glanced towards the door and saw a doctor walking towards the room.

            The doctor stepped in and gave them both a weak smile. He was fairly young, must be a resident, Greg thought.

            “Hi, I’m Dr. Stamford.” The doctor greeted him before looking down at John. “I see my patient has drifted off.”

            “Yea, he is pretty tired. Should I uh, move?” Greg gestured to a chair next to the bed. “The nurse kinda ushered me onto the bed with him earlier.”

            “No, it’s fine. When patients as young as John come in it’s pretty common. Especially the way he came in.” Dr. Stamford sighed.

            “Right.” Greg replied. He could guess by the sadness and anger in the Doctor’s eyes that this sort of case was more common than anyone would like.

            “Well, John, as you know already, has a broken wrist and severe bruising. He also has several deep cuts on his back that we are treating.”

            “The paramedic said she didn’t like the sound of his lungs.” Greg stated.

            “Yes, I’m afraid John has pneumonia.” Dr. Stamford grimaced slightly. “It hasn’t progressed very far, but it’s still a concern because his general health is so poor.”

            “General health?” Jenna asked.

            “He’s very dehydrated and malnourished. This means that his body his a fairly weak and fighting pneumonia, and healing in general, might be difficult.” Dr. Stamford looked to Greg. “I would have guessed based on his size that he was barely four.”

            “He’s five. I’m positive.” Greg sighed looking down at John in concern.

            “Which makes his weight even more concerning. I’ll be by to check on him again later.” Stamford nodded at them both before leaving.

            Not long after Jenna took her leave, but not before promising to check in tomorrow. This left Greg alone with a sleeping John and far too many things to think and worry about.

 

 

 

 

            Sebastian clenched his teeth as his mobile buzzed in his pocket again. It was the third time in the last hour that it had gone off. He looked over to Jim who was currently in conversation with a Russian arms dealer. If he could just get Jim’s attention he might be permitted to step out for a moment, but he didn’t dare go otherwise. Sebastian was relieved momentarily when the buzzing finally stopped only for it to start again once more. Who on earth would be so eager to get ahold of him?

            He shifted from one foot to another, which luckily drew Jim’s gaze. Sebastian flicked his eyes towards the door and the back to Jim. Jim considered him for a moment, narrowing his eyes, before blinking once and turning his attention back to the arms dealer. Sebastian almost sighed in relief; glad he had worked out a set of silent signals with his boss, so as not to interfere with business deals.

            After exiting the room quietly and efficiently he pulled out his private mobile and frowned at the unknown number.

            “Hello, this is Sebastian Moran.” He answered gruffly.

 _“Mr. Moran, I’m calling to inform you your sister has been found.”_ A young woman’s voice announced over the phone. _“We need you to come identify her at St. Bart’s.”_

            “Identify her.” Sebastian repeated his stomach dropping. “My little brother was in her care, please can you tell me anything of him?”

 _“Your brother is there as well Mr. Moran.”_ The voice informed him.

            “My god is he? Is he--?” Sebastian stuttered fearing the worst.

 _“He is in room 233, sir.”_ The woman replied. Sebastian sighed in relief, fighting back tears.

            “I’m on my way.” He replied, collecting himself. He hung up and turned around to find Jim by his side, watching the Russian’s leave.

            “And where do you think you’re off to?” Jim asked. “You do remember that assignment I gave you earlier.”

            “Jim, I can’t. My sister died, I have to go take care of things.” He answered being deliberately vague.

            “Fine. If you must.” Jim allowed, rolling his eyes.

            “Thank you, Henderson can cover that assignment you had for me. He’s nearly as good.” Sebastian said.

            “Yes yes. Just don’t think this is getting you out of coming with me to Germany next week. It shouldn’t take that long to put her in the ground.” Jim scoffed and turned away before adding, “Send Travers up to take your place.”

            Sebastian nodded curtly before quickly retreating. After rousing Travers, who had been sleeping in front of the security monitors, Sebastian grabbed his keys and headed out.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy. It's a rather dark beginning but I promise it will get better.


	2. Hospital Talks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian makes it to the hospital and a series of difficult and pretty painful conversations ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for this being later than I originally planned! I finished it about mid-week and then sent it to my lovely Beta mafm, who, god bless her, was pretty sick and didn't get to editing it for me until today.

 

            Sebastian raced back to London as fast as he could, cursing Jim along the way several times for proposing to meet the arms dealers near the coast. Sure, he supposed it made sense to have the weapons that Jim was smuggling into Ireland brought to a point along the English coast. For Sebastian, however, it was a three-hour exercise in torture knowing that his little brother was in the hospital, alone and afraid. He could almost hear the derision in Jim’s voice if his boss knew. ‘ _He’s only your half brother. Who cares?’_

            Seb could understand how many would believe that he would be indifferent to a half-sibling, as are many siblings when a parent remarried and had other children. His own mother had died after a long battle with cancer when he was 15, which left Sebastian and his younger sister Harriet alone with their father. It had been hard to watch his father grieve for what turned out to be the longest three years of his life. So when his father had met and fell in love with Julie, Sebastian had honestly been happy for his father, as had Harriet. As for John, well he had been a surprise to them all a few years later.

            He would never forget the shock that was still on his father and step-mother’s faces when they told him. Julie had been told at a young age that she had such a low fertility rate that she would likely never conceive, so she had had been doubly shocked to find that she had conceived at 47 years of age.

            Sebastian, at 20 years of age, had already been enlisted in the army for two years when his little brother was born. He supposed it was the abnormally large age gap that eased any resentment he and Harry might have had, but really John was hard not to take a liking to. Anytime Sebastian had leave he spent it at home, making the happy baby smile and giggle.

            Unfortunately, for his father, the happiness couldn’t last. Julie, his step-mother, died almost a year after John was born from post-pregnancy complications. Sebastian made even more of an effort to keep in touch with his father after that. He got leave as often as he could and Skyped home with his father once a week. This allowed him to check up on his father as well as bond with his growing brother.

            So, despite the large age gap, Sebastian was very attached to his half-sibling, and for that reason he raced back to London in a manner that would make any Formula One driver quite proud.

            When he finally did make it to the hospital it was late morning, and his heart was racing with worry. Once he made it to the second floor and to the room he had been told John was in, he was shocked into immobility by what he saw. 

 

 

 

 

            It had been a long night for Greg. John had woken up several times, twice from bone-rattling coughs and once from what seemed to be a rather vivid nightmare. Each time, Greg had held him, and in the case of the coughing situations, he gently encouraged the little boy to accept the medicine that the nurses brought in. Sometime around 6am he had received a text from Mycroft informing him that they had found Sebastian and were currently trying to get in touch with him. Reassured, Greg had slipped into a light doze, with John still cuddled up to him.

            When Greg finally woke once more he found himself staring at a shocked Sebastian. His old friend seemed to be frozen, staring at John from the doorway in stunned shock.

            “Bastian,” Greg called out to his friend, who, once startled out of his reverie, looked over to him.

            “What..? How…?” Bastian stuttered out moving forward finally. When his friend finally reached the bed he gasped in shock at the close up view of John’s bruised face.

            “Sit, Bastian, before you collapse from shock.” Greg advised. Sebastian did as he was told, sitting on the end of the bed without taking his eyes from John.

            The slight movement of the bed was enough to jostle John awake. John slowly opened his eyes and immediately spotted Sebastian. John stared at his brother for the briefest of seconds before dissolving into tears and reaching out for him. Greg watched as Sebastian swept John into his arms, careful of the IVs and pulse reader, and buried his face into John’s hair.

            Greg fought hard to keep his own emotions in check as he watched their reunion. He began to worry though, when John’s continued crying lead to another round of painful-sounding coughs. Sebastian looked up at him, tears glistening in his eyes, when John’s coughs turned into panicked gasps for air. Nurses, alerted by John’s heart rate, rushed into the room. Greg slipped from the bed and watched as they pushed Sebastian into his vacated spot and then began flitting about John, attending to him.

            Greg caught Sebastian’s eye and pointed to the door, indicating he was stepping out for a moment. After a brief nod from his friend, Greg hurried out, dodging another nurse, and John’s doctor, as they hurried into the room.

 

 

 

 

            Sebastian didn’t know what happened, one minute he was hugging his brother and the next John was looking at him in terror trying to breathe.  He looked down at John who, now calm and breathing relatively easily, was huddled in his lap and clinging to him. His brother was eyeing the doctor warily as he approached with an oxygen unit.

            “John, I know this looks scary, but it will help you breathe better, alright?” The doctor said calmly.

            John looked up at Sebastian with uncertainty and fear. Sebastian smiled and nodded down his encouragement. John looked back at the doctor and tensed as the cord was placed around him and settled under his nose. Sebastian watched as John’s face scrunched up in annoyance at the intrusion. Just when he thought John was going to pull the plastic tubing away, John took a deep rattling breath and then relaxed once more against him. Sebastian looked up at the doctor who was now looking at him with narrowed eyes.

            “I’m Dr. Stamford.” The doctor introduced himself.

            “I’m Sebastian, John’s brother. The last time I saw him in person was at my father’s funeral. I had to head straight back to Afghanistan the day after. That’s why he got a bit overwhelmed.” Sebastian replied apologetically.

            Dr. Stamford’s face cleared in understanding and he moved to pick up John’s chart.

            “Why is his breathing so bad?” Sebastian asked stroking John’s back.  

            “John has pneumonia.” Dr. Stamford said sighing heavily. “I was hoping that we could keep it from progressing into a worse case, but it seems rather unlikely. His blood oxygen levels have lowered since last night, which is concerning because they were not that high to begin with. The supplemental oxygen will help him breathe better and raise those levels back up. I’m also switching him to some stronger antibiotics. Between the two I hope to seen an improvement.”

            “Good.” Sebastian commented looking down at John once more who was blinking sleepily.

            Dr. Stamford made a few more notes before leaving, passing Greg once more on his way out.

            “Breathing better I see.” Greg commented pulling a chair closer to the bed.

            “Yea.” Sebastian nodded looking at his old friend. “Sorry I kind of took your spot.”

            “It’s fine, you’re where you should be.” Greg smiled. “I had to use the loo anyways.”

            Sebastian smiled at this admission still rubbing John’s back gently. He frowned when he finally realized what was beneath the hospital gown. 

            “Greg, why does he have bandages on his back?” Sebastian asked, peering down the back of the gown.

            “I suppose I should probably tell you how he was found.” Greg sighed.

 

            So, Sebastian listened as Greg explained the gruesome crime scene and how they had found a very traumatized John. With each new detail he heard, Sebastian’s grip on John grew stronger. His first thought was that he wished that the criminal was still alive, just so he could kill him again, slowly. His second was wondering if this had been one of Jim’s criminals, or one of his hits. Seb honestly wasn’t sure which would have been better, one insured that Jim had employed John’s abuser and the other implied that Jim had a hand in killing Harry.

            Greg looked at him with sad, tired eyes. His old friend looked older than his actual age of 29 years. Came from being a police officer, Sebastian suspected. Then again he himself didn’t look 25, either. They had both gone to the same primary school, although being in different classes they didn’t actually talk to each other until Greg started shadowing his father on the police force. After that Greg had come around for dinner, almost becoming another brother to him and Harry.

            “Did you know he was with Harriet?” Greg asked him softly so as not to wake John.

            “I did. I got a call when Hamish was killed.” Sebastian referred to John’s maternal grandfather.

            “And you thought that was a good idea?” Greg looked at him in surprise.

            “No I thought it was a terrible idea. I loved my sister but she could barely take care of herself. I had about two months left in my deployment and then I would be free to return home. I was originally going to sign on again for another tour but when I got that call I quickly decided against it.” Sebastian sighed. “I told Harry that I would be back in two months and until then I would Skype with her and John every week. I also demanded that she email me everyday.”

            “Demanded?” Greg raised his eyebrows. He knew about as well as Sebastian did how well Harry took to her older brother ordering her around.

            “I told her it was for John’s benefit. That in the emails I wanted her to type a message from John telling me about his day so when I came home I would know how to take care of him.” Sebastian explained.

            “As if you didn’t already know.” Greg snorted.

            “It was the simplest way” Sebastian shrugged “as long as I got an email every day I knew that they were relatively okay and at the same time explaining it that way ensured that Harriet would actually follow through. It worked for a few weeks.”

            “What happened then?” Greg asked.

            “Well, then I was sent out on a mission that was going to last roughly a week. I told Harry this and that she should keep emailing and I would reply when I got back. When I got back to base, nine days later, I had only four emails instead of the nine I expected. I immediately arranged for a call home.”

            “She didn’t answer, did she?” Greg guessed.

            “No. It said the line had been disconnected.” Sebastian took a deep breath. “It just got worse from there. I tried contacting a few of her old friends but none of them had seen her. I even got her old on-again off-again girlfriend to go to her flat and check for me. Harry wasn’t there, the landlord said she hadn’t been able to pay the rent so he kicked her out.”

            “Christ!” Greg exclaimed.

            “Yeah, I had been sending her money so I know she had money but-”

            “Clearly she wasn’t using it for rent.” Greg finished, his eyes darkening.

            “No. I appealed to my superiors to grant me leave but they didn’t see it as an emergency, so they denied my request and told me to pack for my next mission.” Sebastian paused, preparing himself to reveal the next part. “I didn’t. Of course. Instead I left base and took a flight home.”

            “That can’t have ended well.” Greg commented his eyes growing large.

            “No. I was brought up on charges for going AWOL.” Sebastian stated watching Greg’s eyes get impossibly large. “In the end due to my service record and the fact that my tour was almost over they decided to discharge me, dishonorably of course and they took away my pension.”

            “Oh Sebastian.” Greg whispered.

            “I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Sebastian defended himself. “What would you have done in my place?”

            “Probably the same thing.” Greg admitted after a long pause.

            “Yea well. Not like it did me any good being back in London. I had a bit of money saved up so I lived on that as I tried to figure out where she went. I checked everything I could think of: Shelters, school registers, foster homes, everywhere.”

            “The police?” Greg questioned. “Why didn’t you file a report?”

            “I did file one. Her last address was in the adjacent district to yours, probably why you didn’t come across it.” Sebastian explained.

            “I take it you still had no luck ,seeing how things turned out?” Greg looked towards John.

            “No. After a month I had depleted my income and needed to find a job. My next step was going to be hiring a detective to try to find her. Or simply going door to door all over London until I found her.” Sebastian expounded.

            “I take it you found a job.” Greg gestured to the wrinkled suit he was wearing on Jim’s demand.

            “Yea. I uh, lucked into one.” Sebastian stalled trying to think of the best way to explain his job without really explaining it. You really couldn’t tell a cop that you were a hit man/ bodyguard to an up and coming crime lord, even if said cop was an old friend.

            “What is it?” Greg looked at him in confusion.

            “Well I found a listing for security work. The boss liked that I was ex-military and unattached.” At least that much was true, Seb thought to himself.

            “Unattached? Why would that matter?” Greg questioned.

            “Well, he travels a lot. It’s a new business and he is setting up contacts around the world. He prefers to hire people who have fewer commitments.” Sebastian explained carefully.

            “What are you going to do now?” Greg asked looking meaningfully down at John.

            “I’m not sure. I had to sign a contract for a certain number of years.” Sebastian winced, knowing the only way to realistically leave Jim’s employ was in a body bag.

            “Maybe you can get out of it? Tell him about John, maybe he’ll understand.” Greg suggested.

            “I doubt it. My boss may be a new businessman but he is quite literally a genius and fairly uncaring to family issues. I doubt there would be any loopholes.” Sebastian almost shuddered hoping that Jim would never find out about John.

            “So what are you going to do?”

            “Well there are some benefits to the job. It pays substantially well. I could put John through University three times over with just my first two months pay.” Sebastian admitted.

            “Good god, really?” Greg gasped in shock.

            “Yea. The major downside is that for the first year or two I’ll have to travel a lot as he builds his business.” Sebastian glossed over the finer details.  “I don’t know who I would leave John with, and after Harriet I’m honestly concerned to.”

            “Well, I know I’m not family but..” Greg began looking at the floor uncertainly.      

            “Please Greg, you as much family to us as Harry.” Sebastian scoffed.

            “Yes well,” Greg coughed. “Uh, I could take care of him, if you want.”

            Sebastian looked at his friend in surprise. It made perfect sense. Greg was always like an older brother to him. He had bonded with John just as much as Sebastian had.

            “Are you absolutely sure?” Sebastian asked.

            Greg looked down at John and smiled warmly.

            “Most definitely.” Greg nodded.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I do want to say, yes a 20 year age gap is rather uncommon and strange but it can happen. I have a friend who is 27 and his mother just had another baby like 2 months ago. Strange yes but possible. 
> 
> Also, I am not in the medical field nor a specialist in medical biology. (I am a fish biologist...very very different). So while I research symptoms and plausible treatments of illnesses I do hope you all forgive any errors concerning medical procures and such.  
> I do want to assure you though that I do put actual thought and research into it. Any errors are from bad sources or a misunderstanding of said research. 
> 
> Next time look forward to a bit of Mycroft and Sherlock finally making an appearance. 
> 
> to any of you who found this through Hope on Fire (my other WIP that I have been updating regularly) don't worry you'll have another chapter soon. I'm about halfway through writing it (it is a rather long chapter) but have been battling a cold the past few days and writing is no fun when your head feels like mush. Seems sickness is going around.


	3. Comforting Talks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to my beta mafm!!! 
> 
> Also: I am SOOOOOOO incredibly sorry this is so late. Explanations at the end. For now I hope you enjoy!!!

           

 

           Greg knocked once more as he waited patiently for Mycroft to open the door. After a long conversation in the hospital with Sebastian, he had gone home to talk with his landlord, which had been decidedly pointless, and then decided to have a quick kip on the sofa. Upon waking, he found a missed call and text from Mycroft inviting him to dinner. Greg had hastily showered and made his way to the nearest tube station.

            Greg was just about to knock again when the door finally opened. As the door opened Greg expected Mycroft to appear with his usual polite manner and found nothing but air. He quickly looked down and saw Sherlock. The boy was scowling up at him from under his usual mop of curls. 

            “Hello, Sherlock.” He greeted the boy with a smile, curious as to why the boy was cross.

            “You’re going to move away.” Sherlock stated with an even more pronounced frown.

            “Uh, how did you…?” Greg looked at him sheepishly.

            “He overheard our phone conversation.” Mycroft responded coming up from behind Sherlock. Mycroft was dressed in his usual slacks and dress shirt but had clearly been home for a while as his jacket and waistcoat had been discarded and his sleeves were rolled up.

            “Right.” Greg sighed before smiling at his boyfriend. “So, can I come in?”

            Sherlock continued to glare at him in the doorway, not moving an inch.

            “Sherlock, if you let Gregory come in, I’m sure he will explain.” Mycroft offered with a small smile.

            At this, Sherlock squinted his eyes and then turned around and led the way into the living room. Greg followed, giving Mycroft a kiss as he passed him. He settled down onto the sofa, opposite a still scowling Sherlock, with Mycroft next to him.

            “So, why are you moving away?” Sherlock grumbled.

            “I’m not moving away, I just need a bigger apartment.” Greg replied.

            “Why?” Sherlock frowned.

            “Because I’m going to have someone living with me.” Greg explained looking at Mycroft with a smile.

            “Who?” Sherlock asked, genuinely puzzled.

            Greg sighed and looked to Mycroft for help. After he had explained the situation to Myc over a quick phone call Mycroft had been extremely supportive. Greg really wasn’t sure how Sherlock would take things. The odd little boy had been distant with him when he and Mycroft had begun dating. It had taken several months and a joint love of murder mysteries to get Sherlock to warm to him. The eight year old was extremely suspicious of new people and highly possessive of the ones he did know.

            “Sherlock, do you remember why Gregory couldn’t make it to dinner last night?” Mycroft questioned.

            “He was in the hospital with some boy.” Sherlock replied with disdain.

            “John.” Greg corrected calmly.

            “Common name.” Sherlock snorted.

            “Well, John’s brother travels around quite a lot and since John’s like a little brother to me, I offered to have him live with me.” Greg explained.

            Sherlock scrunched his nose at this information, clearly adverse to the idea.

            “Does he have to?” Sherlock narrowed his eyes at them.

            “Yes.” Greg suppressed a laugh.

            “Don’t be so pessimistic, brother. You might like him.” Mycroft added.

            “How old is he?” Sherlock asked in doubt.

            “Five.” Greg responded.

            “Doubtful. The best I can promise is that I won’t actively dislike him.” Sherlock huffed.

            “Well, that’s a good start. Perhaps when John’s feeling better, you can come to the hospital to meet him.” Greg encouraged, smiling at the disgruntled look.

            Sherlock huffed once more and then moved to escape the room, presumably to go back to one of the experiments he constantly has going.

            “Sherlock, dinner will be ready soon.” Mycroft informed the boy who pretended not to hear. “That means that you are required back downstairs in approximately five minutes so don’t get tangled up in some bizarre experiment.”

            Sherlock made no indication that he heard and continued on his way up the stairs. Once Sherlock had disappeared Greg leaned back on the sofa and turned his attention to Mycroft.

            “Are you alright?” Mycroft asked quietly. “This is quite a lot to deal with.”

            “Yea, I’m fine I guess…” Greg paused, “I think I’m still processing it to be honest.”  
            “How is John doing?” Mycroft inquired, taking Greg’s hand in his own.

            “They put him on oxygen to help with his breathing before I left. Sebastian said he would keep me updated while I’m gone.” Greg sighed. “He just looked so small, My; so utterly terrified of everything. I can’t get that image of him in that cupboard of a room out of my head.”

            “He’s safe now Gregory, that is what is important.” Mycroft assured him with a squeeze to his hand. “How is your friend, Sebastian?”

            “About the same as me. He looked shell-shocked when he finally showed up at the hospital. I never thought I would see Bastian, a war-hardened veteran, so astonished that he looked as if he might faint.” Greg replied.

            “He has had a tough couple of years.” Mycroft commented.

            “And I can’t imagine it is going to get any easier. His boss seems to be extremely demanding and uncaring to his current situation.”

            Greg sighed and glanced at the stairs Sherlock had just disappeared up.

            “Should I worry about him?” Greg asked concerned.

            “Sherlock will adapt. He’s not overly fond of new people, as you know, but he’s accepted you so that,” Mycroft gestured to the staircase “was his way of saying he will at least try.”

            “Good.” Greg sighed in relief; he really didn’t want to lose his relationship with Sherlock.

            “So what area are you thinking of looking at for a new flat?” Mycroft casually asked.

            “Oh, well I don’t actually have to look.” Greg shrugged. “Apparently in addition to continuing his search for John, Bastian bought a townhouse last time he had time off from his job. He said he wanted to be prepared with a flat large enough for John, and even Harriet.”

            “Bought a townhouse?” Mycroft repeated in obvious surprise.

            “Bastian’s job pays extremely well. He insisted on furnishing it as well as providing for John’s education when the time comes for it. Bastian would spend the money on John even if John wasn’t going to live with me so I’m not so bothered by it, although monthly expenses like food and utilities I insisted on paying for.” Greg explained.

            “Reasonable terms.” Mycroft nodded before asking. “Where is the townhouse?”

            “Actually not far from here. Easily walkable.” He smiled at Mycroft.

            “Well I approve of that detail. Is there anything I can help you with?” Mycroft asked.

            “I don’t suppose you could use your negotiation skills to get me out of my lease?” Greg asked hopefully. “Or know of someone I can sublease to until my lease is up?”

            “I’ll get right on it.” Mycroft smiled and stood, dragging Greg with him.

           

 

 

 

 

            Sebastian picked up the piece of toast and waved it in front of John once more.

            “Are you sure you won’t have a little?” Sebastian tried to tempt the boy further by spreading a bit of jam on the bread.

            John didn’t verbally reply, but Sebastian felt him shake his head slightly against his side. Sebastian looked down at the little boy and frowned at the boy’s miserable looking face. John’s face was flushed and he was leaning tiredly against Sebastian, still clutching at Sebastian’s shirt as if John thought he would disappear if he let go.

            Sebastian sighed and dropped the toast on the plate. He placed his arm around John and gave him a small squeeze. He looked up at a knock on the doorway and found Greg had returned.

            “How is he doing?” Greg asked scanning John’s face.

            “Not any better, not any worse, though. We still can’t convince him to eat anything.” Sebastian explained.

            “Hm.” Greg hummed stepping forward. He had a small duffle bag thrown over one shoulder. In one hand he carried a plush brown bear that had a large green bowtie around its neck.

            “What’s in the bag?” Sebastian asked, looking at it curiously.

            “Oh, I uh brought you a few things, change of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, ya know, everyday stuff.” Greg replied before waving the bear. “I brought this for John. Thought he might want something to cuddle with.”

            Greg placed the bag at the end of the bed and handed the bear to John who pulled it to his side and buried his face in it.

            “Thanks, mate.” Sebastian smiled at him before asking, “Have a good rest?”

            “Yea, I did. Just came from dinner with my boyfriend and his brother.” Greg smiled as he watched John stroke the bear’s fur with reverence.

            “Tell me about him.” Sebastian asked, curious about his friend’s life.

            “Well, Myc works for the government. Don’t ask me what cause I’m not sure myself to be honest. He’s about your age, has auburn hair and only ever wears a suit.” Greg replied.

            “Sounds posh.” Sebastian smirked.

            “Yea, he is.” Greg chuckled.

            “You sound happy.” Sebastian commented.

            “I am. Myc is great. He basically raises his younger brother.”

            “Why?” Sebastian asked confused.

            “Well their parents had Mycroft and then after large gap had Sherlock. He was a bit like John in that respect, an accident. According to Mycroft they were never overly involved as parents anyway, preferring to leave it to the nannies they hired. Mycroft finally had enough of it and brought Sherlock to live with him while their parents travel around the world.” Greg uttered the last bit with disgust.

            “Well he does seem like a good catch then.” Sebastian agreed. “How old is Sherlock?”

            “He’s 8. In a few days if John is feeling a bit better I’d like to bring them by so they can meet. Sherlock isn’t easy to get along with but he’s promised to be on his best behavior.” Greg stated.

            “Yea alright, as long as John is doing ok. I’d like to meet your boyfriend.” Sebastian grinned.

            His heart swelled as he looked down at John and who had curled onto his side, with the bear tucked under his arm and his thumb in his mouth. Sebastian really didn’t want to leave with Jim at the end of the week.

            “Bit old for that isn’t he?” Greg asked referring to the thumb sucking.

            “Probably, but I’m not really sure I care right now. I’m just glad he’s here.” Sebastian replied.

            “Fair point.” Greg nodded.

            “Any word on the case? Has anyone figured out how they ended up with that criminal?” Sebastian asked.

            “I haven’t heard any news yet. Due to my personal interest in the case I had to hand it over to another DI, but Gregson’s a good friend and promised to keep me updated.” Greg replied. “Mycroft is also looking into things in his own way.”

            “I think that’s what kills me the most.” Sebastian paused. “The not knowing what exactly they went through. What made John so scared? Why won’t he talk? What did he go through? What did he see?”

            “I’m right there with you, although I’m not sure we will ever know the full story. By the way, Myc recommended a few child therapists just in case.” Greg commented.

            “I hate this.” Sebastian grumbled his jaw clenching. “A kid shouldn’t need a therapist. A kid shouldn’t go through this. I should have come home as soon as I got word that John’s grandfather had died. I could have prevented all of this.”

            “Stop.” Greg ordered putting a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault Bastian. It isn’t.”

            Sebastian just sighed in response and looked at his friend. Greg was looking at John while gripping Sebastian’s arm still. They stayed that way for a while, just comforting each other and alternately watching each other and John.   
            “I, uh, contacted my lawyer.” Sebastian commented after a while.

            “Mr. Taylor?” Greg asked referencing the lawyer that had handled his father’s estate.

            “Yes. I like old Mr. Taylor and he was a good friend of dad’s.” Sebastian confirmed. “Anyway, I had him add your name to the title of the house, he might contact you about signing a few forms. He can also give you a set of keys to the house. I never did pick them up when the sale went through.”

            “Oh wow, you didn’t have to go through all that!” Greg shook his head in astonishment.

            “It only makes sense, Greg. He also has the key to the storage unit where I stored the stuff from dad’s house that I wanted to keep. There are a few pieces of furniture, some pictures and what not. I’m afraid I have no idea where John’s things are. They went with him to his grandfather’s and I honestly have no idea where they went after that.” Sebastian explained.

            “S’alright. Might be best to get new things. Start new memories, less painful ones.” Greg replied with a sad smile.

            “When can we have a funeral for Harriet?” Sebastian asked with a pang of guilt for not asking about it sooner.

            “Not until the case is closed or the corner decides there is nothing more to be gained from the bodies. It’s a rather high profile case though so I expect it won’t be drawn out.” Greg replied. “I’ll help you sort things out when the time comes.”

            “Thanks, Greg, really.” Sebastian replied, almost wanting to forgo his nature and give in and hug his old friend. He would be forever grateful that Greg decided to shadow his father all those years ago. He gained much more than a friend that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea, my life got a bit topsy turvy for the last two weeks. I went out of town and then was only home for a short time before I journeyed back to the East coast for a bit. My job is seasonal and on the off months I decided to go help my parents fix their house after the massive flooding damage they retained. So now that I am not traveling a bunch I should have more time to update more regularly on things again. Sorry again for the inconvenience!!! 
> 
> Also I hope you enjoyed this bit. I'm very nervous about writing a young Sherlock, so please if you have any critiques (helpful and polite please) send them my way. 
> 
> -Ren


	4. Sherlock makes a visit.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian gets a call and Sherlock makes a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is unbeta'd, My wonderful beta is away for the holidays but I didn't want to wait to post chapters. So I've read through this a few times. If my beta has a chance to edit it I'll make changes later. Otherwise I hope you enjoy!!

 

 

            Sebastian shifted John slightly in his lap and reached for his ringing mobile. John was snuggled up in his lap once more, cuddling the large teddy bear Greg had brought him. The sweet day nurse, Kathy, with Sebastian’s help, had convinced John to eat a bit of oat porridge. She had sweetened it with a bit of honey and cinnamon, which helped in their persuasion greatly. John had finished almost half of the bowl before refusing anymore, which Sebastian took as an achievement seeing as the day before they couldn’t get him to eat anything but one slice of toast. The boy was now watching the telly in the corner of the room where a child’s movie was playing courtesy of nurse Kathy.

            Sebastian cringed when he noticed who was calling. He sighed and mentally prepared himself to deal with Jim. He declined the call, not wanting to get on the bad side of any nurse. Instead he reached for the phone provided in the hospital room and quickly dialed Jim’s number.

“ _Hello?”_ Jim’s stern voice answered.

            “Jim, it’s Sebastian.” He clarified.

            “ _You better have a good reason for rejecting my call.”_ Jim warned.

            “I’m in a hospital.” Sebastian said quickly.

            “ _And?”_ Jim sniffed.

            _“_ You know they don’t allow mobile use in hospitals.” Sebastian sighed in exasperation.

            “ _Whatever, I need you for a job. There is a businessmen that needs a little threatening.”_ There was a moment of silence as Jim considered something. “ _Possibly a little maiming.”_

            “I can’t Jim. Have André do it.”

            “ _What do you mean you can’t?_ ” Jim questioned testily.

            “I’m dealing with my sister’s death, remember?” Sebastian tried to remind him.

            _“Still? How long does it take to put her in the ground?”_ Jim shot back in annoyance.

            “Quite a while if she’s part of a police investigation.” Sebastian replied.

            “ _What police investigation? Seb, explain. Now.”_ Jim demanded his mild irritation quickly replaced by a cold harsh tone.

            “Have you heard of a minor drug lord named O’Hare?” Sebastian asked carefully.

            “ _Hm, vaguely. I gave Rasta the go ahead to remove him from his territory. What does he have to do with your sister?”_ Jim replied referencing another drug leader that was heavily under Jim’s thumb.

            “It seems she was found shot in the same apartment. It’s taking longer than normal because they won’t release her body until they settle the case.”

            “ _Hm. Criminal acts run in the family eh?”_ Jim sounded mildly amused.

“No, I wouldn’t say that entirely.” Sebastian said sternly. “The police don’t think she was there of her own free will.”

            “ _Well thanks for telling me. I’ll do some poking around to make sure nothing gets back to me. I’ll even try to tie thing up neatly for the police, they should like that, make it easy for them. The sooner this matter is settled the sooner you can get back to work.”_ Jim hummed, the sound of furious typing drifting over the phone line.

            Sebastian rolled his eyes at Jim’s little speech. He should have known that Jim would only care about how it affected him.

            “Right, well I’ll see you at the airstrip on Saturday for the Germany trip.” Sebastian offered.

            “ _6 am sharp.”_ Jim responded before abruptly hanging up the phone.

            Sebastian sighed and pulled John closer to him.

            “How on earth did we get here hm?” He whispered to the little boy.

 

 

            Sherlock drug his feet as he walked behind Greg and Mycroft. He carried the bag Mrs. Hudson had given him in one hand, almost dragging it on the ground as he slumped along. He still didn’t quite understand why he had to give the boy a present. Mrs. Hudson had said, “ _Because dear, that’s what you do when someone is in hospital, you bring them a gift.”_ Mycroft had just raised an eyebrow at him until he took the parcel.

            Sherlock really didn’t want to come meet this boy. So what if Greg was going to take care of him? The boy wasn’t going to like him therefore Greg would stop liking him and then Mycroft would be upset with Sherlock for scaring off his boyfriend. Better just to not meet, then this boy, James or Jake or whatever his name was, wouldn’t have a chance to dislike him.

            Sherlock sped up a bit in an attempt to listen to Greg and Myc.

            “Sebastian said he’s doing much better. His cough is still pretty bad but he began to eat more yesterday so that’s good.” Greg was explaining.

            “How is the case coming?” Myc asked.

            “Jenson said they have a few leads, nothing concrete yet but he’s hopeful.” Greg continued as he slowed.

            Sherlock shrank back a bit and quickly looked at the floor.

            “Sherlock, you alright there?” Greg asked. Sherlock looked up to find Greg with his hand hovering above the door handle casting a worried glance his way. Sherlock shrugged and looked to the side.

            He heard Greg sigh and open the door. Sherlock shuffled into the room behind his brother.

            A tall blonde man, in the process of moving a cafeteria tray away from the bed, turned and smiled at them.

            “Hey Greg.” The man greeted.

            “Seb, this is Mycroft, my boyfriend, and his brother Sherlock.” Greg introduced smiling down at Sherlock.

            “Nice to meet you.” Seb nodded to Mycroft, jiggling the tray a bit by accident.

            “How are we today John?” Greg looked toward the hospital bed.

            Sherlock scrutinized the boy up on the bed. He looked rather insignificant in the big bed by himself. The boy had blonde hair like Seb and was leaning against a stuffed bear. He looked tired and small.

            “He’s doing pretty good. Almost finished his soup entirely, and even had a few bites of a peanut butter cookie.” Seb said happily before turning and setting down the tray. John, Sherlock noted, looked down at the bear briefly before giving a tired half-smile to Greg.

            “That’s great!” Greg smiled down at the boy before turning to Sherlock. “This is Sherlock John, he’s come to wish you well.”

            Mycroft looked pointedly down at him. Sherlock drew in a deep breath and held out the bag Mrs. Hudson had sent with him.

            “Here.” Sherlock said simply walking forward and placing the bag next to John before sitting in a chair off to the side.

            “That was very nice of you wasn’t it John?” Sebastian said. John said nothing but Sherlock saw him nod out of the corner of his eye.

            “Well if you two think you’ll be ok for a few moments the grown-ups are going to talk outside briefly.” Greg stated looking at Sherlock.

            Sherlock shrugged again and tried not to look too annoyed. He waited for the door to click shut before slouching in his seat and staring at the ceiling. If he didn’t interact with John than John couldn’t dislike him, simple as that.

            Approximately five minutes passed before Sherlock heard the rustling of a bag. He peaked over at the hospital bed and saw jaw pulling something out of the bag. Sherlock actually had no idea what the bag contained, so he was mildly surprised when a familiar children’s book was pulled out. It was one of his old storybooks. Mrs. Hudson must have found them in the attic and thought John might enjoy them. Sherlock, however, was less sure the sickly boy would like them at all. The book was one about bees; it had been one of Sherlock’s favorites despite the insufficient information it provided. He had actually added a few of his own observations in the margins and tidbits that Mycroft and his grandfather had shared with him about bees. John would hate a book that had been scribbled in, he was sure of it. Mrs. Hudson should have considered that, not that she had any right to be giving away Sherlock’s old things anyway.

            “That’s my old book and you probably won’t want to read it.” Sherlock announced moving forward as John opened the first pages. His sudden movement startled the boy causing him to jump to the side and knock his stuffed bear off of the bed.

           Sherlock waited for John to settle before picking up the bear and handing it to him. John accepted and looked at him curiously before looking back to the book. His eyes widened when he saw some of Sherlock’s scribbles. John looked back at him and pointed at the writing before pointing back at Sherlock.

           “Yes, I wrote that.” Sherlock confirmed the silent question.

           John looked at the book once more and Sherlock prepared for the boy to toss the book aside. Instead John tilted his head to the side as if to question why Sherlock had written on the pages.

           “The book lacked enough information so I added to it.” Sherlock explained as John continued to look at the pages.

           He seemed to just be scanning the pages from what Sherlock could see. How old had Greg said John was? Five? Probably couldn’t read most of the words, if any. John looked up at him and then looked pointedly down at space next to him on the hospital bed. Sherlock hesitated before sitting carefully on the side of the bed. He hadn’t exactly expected this reaction. John pushed the book so it sat between the two of them and then pointed at a section of Sherlock’s scrawl.

           “This is where I described their honeycombs in detail. My grandfather had a few hives and I sat and observed one once. The comb walls meet at exactly 120 degrees, one of the most perfect structures in nature. According to my grandfather, they use less wax building them that way.” Sherlock explained.

           John looked suitably impressed before pointing to another fact that Sherlock had written in on the opposite page that had an accompanying diagram.

           “That explains why bees have two stomachs, one for eating and one for storing nectar. The diagram is a rough representation of what it looked like when I dissected a bee to see. Although the microscope I used at the time was questionable due to it’s age.” Sherlock explained.

           John looked at him when he said he had had dissected the bee curiosity and slight confusion filling his face.

           “Dissecting means to cut open. One of the bees got too much smoke and died when my grandfather was collecting honey so I took him home to look at him under my microscope.” Sherlock elucidated which seemed to only raise more questions for John to which Sherlock set about explaining.

           Once there was a lull in John’s silent questions Sherlock opted to ask one of his own.

           “I saw your face when your brother mentioned the cookie. Why did you eat some of the peanut butter cookie when you clearly disliked it?” He asked causing John to look at him in fear.

           John looked at him then at the door then at Sherlock again, worry clear in his face.

           “You only ate it to make your brother happy?” Sherlock posited.

           John’s expression cleared and he smiled just a bit. Sherlock smiled back before jumping to his next question.

           “Could you talk before? Or were you mute from birth?” Sherlock asked.

           John’s eyes widened and he started breathing heavily while opening and closing his mouth repeatedly in distress, emitting a whining noise.

           “I’m sorry!” Sherlock panicked patting John on arm. “It’s fine, forget I asked. I never ask the right thing. I don’t care if you don’t speak! I’m sorry!”

           John calmed slowly as Sherlock rambled on. Hopefully John wouldn’t hate him for making him so distressed. He actually kind of liked the quiet little boy. Sherlock turned back to the book and pointed to another section of writing.

           “Look, did you know that bees have four stages of development?” Sherlock explained hastily trying to distract John. He continued to explain the life cycle while John slowly calmed entirely and began to lean into him.

 

 

 

           Greg briefed Sebastian on the updates he received in the case, which really wasn’t much and then listened politely as Mycroft recommended a child therapist for John.

           “Thanks, really. I’ve been wondering if I should take him to someone to talk to. Without knowing exactly what happened to him it’s hard to tell.” Sebastian brushed his hair back in frustration. “He has yet to utter a word to me.”

           “Hey, it will be ok. With all of our help he’ll get there.” Greg patted Seb’s back.

           “I hope.” Sebastian sighed before looking up at him. “Did my lawyer contact you?”

           “Yes he did, I’ve already signed several forms and received a set of keys.” Greg confirmed.

           “Good, good. I also set up an account with a few furniture places. If you go by and pick out some furniture once you see the place they’ve all guaranteed me that they can at least get any bedroom furniture you need delivered by Friday. I’m not sure what John would like really, but his favorite color is still green as far as I know.” Sebastian informed him while handing him a slip of paper with the names of the shops.

           “Well maybe I’ll ask him a few questions before we leave, see if he’s willing to offer an opinion.” Greg smiled and looked toward the door. “Perhaps we should go back in, we’ve been out here a good while.”

           Greg looked at Mycroft who was staring at the door with worry. Probably concerned for Sherlock and whatever he might say to John. Sherlock was rather unpredictable.

           “Right, John tends to get antsy if I leave the room for more than five minutes and it’s been at least thirty.” Sebastian agreed as he turned for the door.

           They were all unprepared for the sight that greeted them when Sebastian pulled open the door. John had fallen into what appeared to be a deep sleep, a book about bees clutched in one hand. He was leaning heavily on Sherlock who was paging through a different children’s book, a few more storybooks littered the bed in front of Sherlock.

           Greg turned to look at Mycroft who looked like he might be having a stroke. It looked like this visit did more than John good from the way Sherlock was cuddled comfortably on the hospital bed.

           “John likes chocolate chip cookies, not peanut butter.” Sherlock announced looking up at Sebastian.

           Sebastian, who was also speechless, coughed before replying.

           “Noted.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this chapter!  
> Again I was nervous about writing a child Sherlock. I went with this version because I figured as a child he wouldn't be quite so closed off to all his emotions but still awkward and in fear of rejection.  
> Hope you're having a fabulous holiday wherever you are and however you celebrate!!!!!


	5. John Comes Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever thank you to my wonderful Beta mafm who constantly has to deal with my inability to put commas in places they should be.

 

 

           Sebastian sighed in frustration as he boarded Jim’s private plane. Leaving John had been the most agonizing thing he had done in a long time. The image of Greg holding John while the boy sobbed and reached for him would haunt Sebastian the entire trip, if not significantly longer. He had tried to explain why he’d need to leave to the boy but between John’s young age, and his being very recently traumatized, it had been extremely difficult to get him to calm him. John did not want to accept Sebastian’s leaving.

            So Sebastian settled into his seat and grumpily stared out of the window. Rationally, he knew that John would be fine in Greg’s care. He also knew that given a day or two John would adjust. He just desperately wished that he could be there anyway.

            “Seb,” Jim called sharply “Are you still moping about your sister?”

            Sebastian looked up and found Jim sitting across from him in his usual pristine suit. He had a file over his crossed legs, which he was flipping idly through.

            “I apologize sir. The case wasn’t closed and I still wasn’t able to set my sister to rest. I will try harder to keep it to myself.” Sebastian straightened in his seat and reached for his own file of information.

            “Honestly, you are too attached. Your sister shouldn’t have gotten involved with criminals that were bound to end up dead.” Jim replied flippantly.

            “Sir, what made you favor Rasta’s claim to that territory over O’Hare’s?” Sebastian asked suddenly curious, Jim usually didn’t bother himself with petty drug lord disputes.

            “Rasta had definitive proof of O’Hare participating in criminal activities.” Jim paused flipping the page in his dossier. “Well, criminal activities that I do not tolerate.”

            Jim’s tone made it clear more questions would not be welcome. Sebastian thought through that comment, idly wondering exactly how bad a crime had to be for Jim to not tolerate it. Sebastian had seen torture, an array of violently bloody and creative murders, con schemes, terrorist activities, hostile government take overs, drug trafficking, and prostitution rings, all organized by or ordered by Jim and that was only in the short time he had worked for the man. Goodness knows what else the man had his fingers in. What on earth could be so repulsive to cause such a reaction in his boss?

 

 

 

            “Alright, Here we are!” The cheery orderly announced, wheeling a child’s wheelchair into the room.

            Sebastian had been gone two days and John’s mood had only improved slightly. He now refused to let Greg out of his sight at all and had cried himself to sleep the first night. John had however gotten well enough for Dr. Stamford to agree to discharge him.

            John tensed and curled into Greg’s side as the orderly stepped forward. John had warmed to his regular nurses, and even Dr. Stamford, but he was still nervous around, and wary of, new people.

            “That’s alright, really, I think it might be best if I just carry him out.” Greg smiled at the orderly as John burrowed further into his side.

            “Yes, I can see that that might be the better option.” The orderly stepped back and directed the chair out of the room once more.

            “Alright, John, ready to head home?” Greg looked down at the boy. John just nodded, as his eyes drooped sleepily.

            Greg scooped the boy up and straightened the beige jumper where it had ridden up a bit. When he had come back to the hospital the day Bastian had to leave he had brought a soft pair of pajamas for John to wear instead of the hospital gown. He had also thought to bring a jumper for the boy and with the weather suddenly turning chilly once more, he was quite thankful he did.

            Greg stood carefully and gave John the stuffed bear that the boy had abandoned when the orderly had come in. The nurses had already taken the other things to the car Mycroft had sent and all that was left was John himself. Greg patted the boy’s back as they walked from the room, heading for the nurses station for one last goodbye.

            “Well, Nurse Kathy,” Greg said grabbing the nurse’s attention. “It seems we are finally ready to head out.”

            “Alright,” The woman smiled before handing over a few documents. “Here are a few prescriptions to help with his recovery at home as well as the diet the nutritionist faxed over. It’s been designed to help him get back to the weight he should be. Although I would caution not to be overly aggressive about it in John’s case, gently coaxing would probably work best. Don’t push it, if he doesn’t want something let it be. Work him up to the diet plan that the nutritionist came up with.”

            “Cheers.” Greg smiled taking the paperwork in his free hand.

            “Now John dear, you continue to get better.” The woman beamed at the boy. John smiled weakly in reply.

            Greg waved once more before turning away and slowly making his way with John out of the hospital. They were stopped a few more times by the other nurses that had looked after John but soon they were outside. It was a beautiful sunny day, if a bit chilly, and John immediately perked up slightly in the sunshine. Greg waited a few minutes allowing the boy to soak it in before finally opening the passenger door and settling John into his car seat. It wasn’t until Greg had moved around the car to get in himself that he noticed the small pile of packages piled in the floorboard. He got in quickly so the driver could pull into traffic, careful to move the packages out of his way. Once settled he picked up the nearest tin and opened the card on the front,

 

            _While I will all be sad to lose a patient as cute and sweet as John, I am very glad that he is well enough to leave! Here’s hoping some baked goods will continue to help the healing process!!_

_Kathy_

Greg opened the tin and found a multitude of homemade chocolate chip cookies. Well that was lovely, he thought. He looked up to offer one to John only to find that John had fallen asleep completely, the gentle lull of the car allowing him to rest peacefully. Greg popped one in his one mouth instead and immediately hummed in pleasure.

            The other packages were also from the nursing staff, a storybook, a soft blue blanket, and a few kids’ movies. There was even a set of toy racecars from Dr. Stamford. Greg felt a little overwhelmed at the gesture and honestly had no idea how to thank them. The doctor and nurses that had looked after John had been incredibly patient and kind. It was a shame Dr. Stamford was still doing his residency and not already practicing, he would be the perfect doctor for John to continue seeing.

            He grabbed another cookie and sat back to relax for the rest of the ride, checking his mobile messages. Mycroft still hadn’t replied to his last text, signaling he was probably in a meeting of some sort. Greg sighed, he missed Mycroft, who had been incredibly busy the past two days. He understood that, it’s not like he had nothing to do himself, what with looking after John. He just missed his boyfriend. Perhaps Mycroft would be free for lunch or dinner tomorrow, he hoped.

            The car pulled up to the townhouse that Bastian had bought and he leaned over to gently wake John. The boy grudgingly opened his eyes and as soon as he was out of his car seat, latched on to Greg once more. After carefully extricating himself and John out of the backseat he reached for a bag with his freehand before being stopped the driver.

            “I shall bring in the bags sir.” The driver, Masters, informed him from the front seat smiling slightly at John’s sleepy face.

            “Thank you, Masters.” Greg nodded rummaging in his pocket for his keys as he approached the front door.

            John sighed and laid his head down on Greg’s shoulder. Greg patted his back and gave him a quick kiss on the forehead.

            “Don’t you worry, John, we’ll get inside and I’ll make some dinner, and then you can go back to sleep, alright…What the--” Greg stopped mid motion as the door swung open in front of them.

            “What took you so long??” Sherlock greeted them grumpily.

            “Sherlock do let them come inside, it is their house and the chill outside won’t do John any favors.” Mycroft’s voice called from inside. Sherlock stepped aside allowing a still shell shocked Greg to enter.

            “Myc, I don’t understand I…I thought you had meetings…I..” Greg stammered out watching as Mycroft emerged from the kitchen to join them.

            “I might not have been entirely truthful dear,” Mycroft smiled at him wiping his hands on a dish towel that was draped over his shoulder. “I did have a few earlier but I asked my assistant to keep the evening free.”

            “Myc..I I just…” Greg paused sniffing the air. “Are you cooking dinner as well?”

            “Yes, I thought a nice minestrone soup would be lovely on a chilly day like this.” Mycroft smiled at him.

            “Ah-hem!” Sherlock coughed impatiently causing Greg to look down at him. “Can I show John upstairs now??”

            Greg looked to John, who seemed to have woken up a bit more, and nodded allowing Sherlock to lead the way upstairs. He followed Sherlock slowly, not wishing to jostle John about too much, his back was still very tender, causing Sherlock to glare or huff impatiently at him every so often. Greg smiled at Sherlock’s antics, knowing that it was a cover for how excited the boy was. When they finally reached what would be John’s bedroom Sherlock turned and looked expectantly up at John.

            The day that Greg had gone to pick out the furniture Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson had tagged along. Mrs. Hudson had given him a few useful tips about what types of furniture were most durable and easiest to clean when it came to children and Sherlock had insisted that he had to get bunk beds. Greg had taken Sherlock’s suggestion thinking it would probably be best, especially if the boys got along well enough to warrant sleepovers. The bed set had a rich oak finish and was adjustable so that the bottom bunk could be made to accommodate a larger mattress over time. Mrs. Hudson had found a soft blanket made up of large color blocks of light blue and green that complemented the dark furniture nicely. Greg had found a few toys and old books of John’s in Bastian’s storage unit and had placed them about the room, hoping that John would find comfort in them.  
            “Well John, what do you think of your room?” He looked at John and patiently waited for the boy to take it all in as Sherlock practically vibrated with excitement.

            John stared around him with wide eyes slowly taking in everything. Greg saw the boy’s eyes light up as he found a few items he recognized, and then he began to squirm in Greg’s arm, impatient to be let down. Greg chuckled and carefully set John down watching as John rushed over to the small bookshelf and pulled his old stuffed dog into his arms. Greg had found the dilapidated old thing in a box of Gerald’s with a huge tear in the side, missing an ear, questionable goop all over one of its paws, and a good bit of stuffing missing. It had been John’s favorite toy when he was three, dragging it everywhere until it became too ruined to play with. Gerald must have tucked it away hoping to fix it and then never got around to it. With Mrs. Hudson’s help, Greg had been able to bring it back to life again.

            John brought the dog back to him and held it up with the biggest smile he’d seen on the boy in a few days.

            “Yes, I found that and thought you might want it in here.” Greg smiled at the boy.

            John hugged his old friend to his chest and then reached up for Greg once more. Greg scooped the boy up and smiled at John’s contented sigh.

            “So do you like it? I helped pick stuff out!!” Sherlock demanded attention from below.

            John looked down at him and smiled, causing Sherlock to preen. Sherlock moved over to the bookcase and pointed to a stack of books.

            “I brought more of my old books for you to look through.” The boy pointed out looking up at John hopefully.

            “Perhaps you could pick out a movie instead, hmm?” Greg suggested, sensing John’s waning energy.

            “Okay!!” Sherlock raced downstairs, causing Greg to chuckle.

            “Alright, so right across the hall is your bathroom, John.” Greg left the bedroom briefly stopping in front of the nice-sized loo allowing John to look in before moving on. “And right here is my bedroom.”

            Greg stopped and flipped the lights on revealing his decent-sized room, a few unpacked boxes still in the corner.

            “If you ever need me at any point in the night, for anything, you can come get me, alright?” Greg said seriously, waiting for John’s nod before moving downstairs once more. “There’s more to the house but I rather think dinner might be ready soon.”

            Greg slowly made his way downstairs once more and smiled when he found Sherlock waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

            “Can we watch Peter Pan?” Sherlock asked hopefully. Greg nodded, and then chuckled as Sherlock raced off to put the movie in.

            Greg moved into the living room and again let John take the space in.

            “Where would you like to set up camp?” He looked at the boy. John looked about and pointed to a familiar fluffy leather chair. The worn chair had been John’s father’s and Greg remembered seeing Gerald cuddled up with John in it several times. Greg had hesitated at the idea of bringing the chair from Bastian’s storage unit but in the end decided to go ahead with it. Greg set John down and smiled as the boy snuggled down into the chair, hugging his patched-up dog.

            After tucking a soft blanket around John he left the boys to enjoy the start of the movie and made his way to the heavenly smell emanating from the kitchen. He found Mycroft stirring a large pot over the stove and moved up behind him wrapping his arms around the younger man.

            “Thank you, Myc.” Greg said turning the man around. “You didn’t have to do all of this, I know you’re very busy.”

            “Gregory, don’t be silly. I know you’ve had a rough couple of days, as has John, with Sebastian leaving. I felt ill at the thought of being in a meeting rather than being here for you.” Mycroft explained quietly.

            Greg smiled and squeezed Mycroft closer, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. Mycroft sighed and relaxed and Greg took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, showing just how much he appreciated Mycroft’s efforts. Mycroft followed his lead before playfully teasing Greg by gently biting his lip and pulling away.

            “Mycroft.” Greg groaned resting his head on Mycroft’s shoulder.

            “I know, but we do have a dinner to serve.” Mycroft slipped his hands down Greg’s back, teasing as he went before he turned abruptly and began to ladle soup into bowls.

            “Tease.” Greg said taking the first two bowls out to the boys.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely for this taking so long.  
> I had some writers block and then some family medical things going on that took precedence. Life happens but take heart, I have no plans on abandoning any of my work. However, sometimes things do get thrown a bit off schedule. 
> 
> For people following my other work:  
> Hope on Fire should be updated soon, hopefully early this coming week. That particular story has been giving me more trouble. I know what I want the characters to do and what needs to happen but the words would not come for a while, and some of the characters decided not to corporate.


	6. Nightmares and Lavender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to mafm for beta-ing. :)

 

            Greg shuffled upstairs quietly, not wishing to wake John, whom he had put to bed several hours ago now. He’d been working from home for the past few days, finishing reports and looking over the work his Sergeant had done in his absence. His boss had agreed to the arrangement for a few days so that John could get used to his surroundings and become better acquainted with Mrs. Hudson, who had kindly offered to watch John when Greg had to return to work. Surprisingly, John had accepted Mrs. Hudson almost instantaneously. Greg had fully expected for it to take a few days, given that John was wary of strangers, and adult strangers even more so; the boy was still distant around Mycroft despite being around him several times now. It probably helped that Sherlock had assured John that, regarding Mrs. Hudson, ‘ _Despite ruining several experiments she is relatively harmless and largely around to bring us sweets.’_ a ringing endorsement from Sherlock if there ever was one.

            Even with Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock there every day, John still clung heavily to Greg’s side. As a consequence, he had little time to do work during the day and thus was heading to bed quite late after finishing up. He shuffled into the loo quickly, sighing at his haggard appearance. Burning the candle at both ends was slowly but surely catching up to him. After washing his hands quickly, he shuffled back into the hall and stopped by John’s room. Quietly he opened the door and peeked in. He waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dark before he focused on the bed. He frowned when the familiar shape of John was absent. Greg opened the door wider and stepped in looking about frantically. As he stepped closer to the bed he noticed a large wet patch peeking out of the sheets, an acrid smell starting to emanate from them.

            “John?” He called out.

            He heard a small squeak from the closet. Greg slowly opened the door and crouched down. John was curled in a ball sobbing quietly. The scene was so reminiscent of the crime scene where John was found at that Greg was sure his heart was going to fall out of his chest.

            “John, it’s fine. It’s perfectly fine. Come here, buddy.” Greg coaxed reaching out slowly for him. John allowed Greg to pull him out of the closet but still refused to look up at Greg.

            Greg simply held the boy to his chest for a few moments, trying in vain to assure him that everything really was fine. With John still silently crying, Greg stood and collected a clean change of pajamas before taking John to the loo.

            “It’s alright, John. I’m not mad, I know you didn’t mean to. You did nothing wrong, bud. Really, it will all be all right. I love you, John.” Greg continued to speak to the boy in a calming tone.

            Once in the loo, Greg drew a bath and then carefully stripped John out of his soiled pajamas. He ushered John into the bath and calmly bathed the boy, speaking in soft tones and assurances the entire time. By the end of the bath John, had stopped crying, and was starting to droop from exhaustion. Greg carefully dried John and helped him get into fresh pajamas.

            After tossing the soiled clothing and towels into the hamper Greg carefully picked up John, who immediately buried his head in Greg’s neck. He left the loo and headed down the hall. John tensed as they neared the boy’s bedroom once more. Greg just patted the boy’s back reassuringly and shut the bedroom door before heading to his own.

            “Why don’t you stay with me tonight, hm?” Greg asked softly. John sighed and snuggled deeper into Greg’s arms.

            Greg set John down in the bed and tucked him in securely before donning his own pajamas. He plugged his mobile up and shot off a quick text to Mycroft before settling down in the bed. He smiled as John scooted closer and glued himself to Greg’s side. Greg put his arm around the boy and within seconds John’s breathing had evened out and his body had relaxed. Greg tried to relax himself but as tired as he was he couldn’t seem to stop worrying over John. Greg thought things had been going better but whatever had happened to John had such a hold on the boy that Greg didn’t even know where to begin to help. Nightmares that scared John so badly he wet the bed? Then terrified, John hid because he was afraid of Greg’s reaction? Greg’s heart, which he thought couldn’t be weighed down anymore, got heavier in his chest. Perhaps he needed to get John an appointment with the child therapist sooner rather than later.

 

 

 

            “When are we going to see John???” Sherlock whined, as he pushed his breakfast around his plate.

            Mycroft sighed and set down his paper. He carefully took in his little brother. Sherlock’s hair resembled a bird’s nest, the curls sticking out in all directions; the silk dressing gown he insisted upon having and that had once been Mycroft’s was bunched around his wrists, much too big for his small frame. His legs swung idly back and forth on the chair, still not quite long enough to reach the floor yet.

            “You will not be going to see John today.” Mycroft said carefully.

            “Why not?” Sherlock looked up at him angrily, but a hint of sadness lurked in his features.

            “Gregory informed me that John was having a rough night. He thought it might be best if John had a quieter day.” Mycroft explained delicately.

            “A rough night?” Sherlock looked at him shrewdly. “Nightmares?”

            “Perhaps.” Mycroft nodded.

            “Hm.” Was all Sherlock offered in reply and resumed pushing his food about his plate.

            Mycroft returned to his paper while keeping an eye on Sherlock. Sherlock however remained silent until Mrs. Hudson appeared again.

            “Oh, you boys. Can’t either of you finish your breakfast properly?” She scolded them as she began to stack the half empty plates.

            Sherlock huffed and hopped down from his chair.

            “Where are you off to in such a hurry? Haven’t even finished your tea young man!” Mrs. Hudson asked looking into Sherlock’s mug with a frown.

            “Research!!” Sherlock shouted as he scampered up the stairs two at a time.

            “You should have never taught him that word.” Mrs. Hudson sighed.

            “My apologizes.” Mycroft commented wryly.

            “How’s John doing this morning? Poor little thing.” Mrs. Hudson asked sadly.

            “I’ve received no further news from Gregory. I imagine the two are having a late start however. They were up quite late.” Mycroft replied. When Gregory had messaged him it had been verging on three am. It had been a simple text,

 

**John is not having a good night. Nightmare induced bedwetting, severely panicked. Might be best to have Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock stay home.**

            “Yes I expect so, that poor baby. I think I’ll make some treats to send over.” Mrs. Hudson decided before taking the breakfast dishes away.

Mycroft smiled at the idea that such trauma could be fixed by baked goods; if only that were so.

 

 

 

            “MRS. HUDSON!” Sherlock shouted as he came barreling down the stairs.

            Startled, she looked up from where she sat trying to finish the last row of her knitting and watched as Sherlock came to a screeching halt in front of her.

            “What on earth are you causing such a racket for?” She asked willing her nerves to settle once more.

            “We need to go to out to the shops. Now.” Sherlock informed her, unceremoniously taking her knitting and setting it down for her.

            “Whatever for? We went around to the shops a few days ago, dear.” She asked, confused as he tried to pull her up.

            “I need to get lavender extract. It’s imperative for a project I’m working on.” Sherlock looked up at her in exasperation.

            “Lavender? Sherlock why do you need it? Please don’t tell me you are experimenting in ways to cover up skunk spray again.” She asked worriedly. Sherlock had spent an entire month collecting various scents and chemicals determined to find the best answer to removing the stink.

            “NO!!! Now come on!” Sherlock continued to pull at her arm.

            “Tell me why you need it right now Sherlock, I will not have your experimenting stink up the house again.” Mrs. Hudson frowned at him.

            “It’s not for that!! That experiment was concluded four months ago! I need it for a different project.” Sherlock whined.

            “Sherlock.” She said sternly.

            “I need to saturate a large piece of soft fabric with it.” Sherlock explained.

            “Why do you want to do that?” She prodded.

            “Because it will help John!!!” Sherlock huffed in annoyance.

            “Sherlock how will a lavender soaked rag help John?” Mrs. Hudson asked quietly.

            “Lavender is supposed to help you fall asleep faster and sleep better. If he has something that smells like lavender to hold maybe he’ll sleep better.” Sherlock explained.

            “Well, alright then. Although, I suggest we find a nice soft blanket to use.” Mrs. Hudson smiled at the boy, who only a month ago couldn’t have been less concerned with helping someone else to feel better.

 

 

 

            Sebastian quickly packed up his rifle and stowed it in his bag before making a hasty exit out of the abandoned building. It was his third kill since arriving, and Sebastian could already feel himself becoming numb to Jim’s causal approach to violence. At least this time he got to do the job from a distance.

            He sighed as he tossed the bag in the back of the hired car. Only a few things left to do in Germany before Jim would be ready to head back to London and Sebastian could be back with John. Greg had sent him a message earlier that day. John’s nightmares were getting worse. The sooner he was able to get back, the better.

            Sebastian paused at the car door to tell the driver to go on. He needed a walk to clear his head. He desperately didn’t want this job to make him numb, unfeeling or uncaring to the violence in this world. Sebastian knew to do that he would have to keep a strong grasp on the good things, on the things that were worthy and important. With John back in his life, and Greg as well, he imagined it would be easier, but despite that, his troubling thoughts still plagued him.

            He walked slowly down the street, worrying about John the entire way. Sebastian was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice when he entered a more populated street. He wandered aimlessly barely noticing the shops that surrounded him. It wasn’t until Sebastian was accidentally jostled by someone, snapping him out of his meditative thoughts, that he happened to notice the time. He paid closer attention now to his surroundings and slowly made his way towards Jim’s private flat.

            Sebastian was waiting on a corner for the lights to change when he saw it, an old-fashioned toy maker’s shop just across the way. Once the light finally changed in his favor, he quickly made his way to the shop. There was a beautifully hand-painted toy train in the window that caught his eye. Sebastian smiled and entered the shop. Jim could wait another fifteen minutes.

 

 

 

 

            “Masters, what are you doing here?” Greg asked the man who was waiting patiently on his doorstep. “Is Mycroft alright?”

            “Sir is fine.” Masters smiled and held a package out for Greg to take. “Mrs. Hudson and young Mr. Sherlock send their love.”

            Greg blinked and accepted the package with a nod.

            “Good night, sir.” Masters smiled again before leaving.

            “Thank you!” Greg finally called after him still staring down at the box perplexed.

            He shut the door and brought the box over to the couch where John was snuggled up in a multitude of blankets and pillows. After a lie in they had spent the day watching cartoons and movies, on occasion napping. Greg hadn’t even changed out of his own pajamas. John looked up at him with tired but curious eyes.

            “It seems we have a present.” Greg explained, opening the box carefully.

            Inside held a variety of muffins, a plate of chocolate chip cookies and some of Mrs. Hudson’s famous fudge. Greg smiled and passed John a cookie before taking a piece of fudge for himself. To the side of the box was parcel wrapped in flashy green paper, the note on the side in Sherlock’s scrawl deemed it was for John.

            “Well, look what we have here, it seems Sherlock sent you something.” Greg placed the package in John’s lap.

            John set his cookie down and opened the package slowly. Inside was a soft hand-knitted blanket in shades of blue. Greg smiled; he recognized Mrs. Hudson’s work when he saw it. John pulled the blanket apart, petting it reverently. Greg leaned forward and sniffed the present slightly bemused as to why the thing reeked of lavender. Greg turned back to the box in his lap and pulled out a hand-written note from Mrs. Hudson.

 

 

_I do hope John is in better spirits. Sherlock wanted me to tell you specifically to make sure John sleeps with the blanket. The lavender scent is supposed to be calming and help one to have a restful sleep. He was a little overenthusiastic when adding the scent but I imagine in a few days it will be fine._

_Love, Martha Hudson_

 

            Greg smiled at the note and looked back to John who had wrapped the blanket around himself securely and had resumed munching on his treat. Greg took out his mobile and snapped a picture before sending it to Mrs. Hudson along with a few words of thanks. They would get John through this, all of them together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you enjoyed. It will probably continue like this for a while, each chapter will be set a few days to a week after the last chapter happened. I do actually have an end goal to this even if it seems a bit ramble-y now. 
> 
> this is the toy Seb sees in the shop:
> 
>  [train toy](http://www.handcraftedgermangifts.com/035-008.html)
> 
> :) Love you all!
> 
> **accidentally published a really unfinished draft of this chapter that appeared as chap 7, so...oops. it's been deleted.


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